


Right on Time

by Starla-Nell (Princess_Nell)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Antivan Adventures, BDSM, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Sensation Play, Spanking, Teasing, heist getaway, implied assassination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess_Nell/pseuds/Starla-Nell
Summary: It's Valentine's Day. Alec Surana and Zevran have a very special evening planned. With luck, no one (else) will die.





	Right on Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ray_Murata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ray_Murata/gifts).



> This takes place in Ray’s Wicked Hearts universe, or as close as I could manage without being in Ray’s head.
> 
> Everyone involved in the implied assassination(s) merely needed assassinating. 
> 
> I doubt literal Valentine’s Day happens in Thedas, but this fic is a Valentine’s gift so I pretended it does.

Zevran lands on the inn’s balcony in a buzz of adrenaline and anticipation when he hears Alec’s cry of pleasure tumble out the window.

_No,_ Zevran reminds himself, _not actually Alec._

Zevran smiles at Alec Surana, who’s flattened himself against the wall on the other side of their window for tonight. He’s smiling back and teasing the elaborate braids out of his straight ginger hair and pulling it back into a high ponytail. The Antivan summer air is only starting to cool with an evening breeze off the bay. Fish, tannic, and spices settle Zevran in his skin after their run across rooftops. He’d long since lost his dealer’s tie, and he’d torn the elbow of his uniform shimmying up a drainpipe.

They wait for the couple inside to finish. It makes Zevran’s cock twitch just to listen to it. Worse—or better, in this case—the second noisy, convincing voice joining not-Alec in ecstasy sounds exactly like Zevran himself in such throes.

Alec groans and hits his head against the outer wall of the inn. Zevran grins wider and vanishes in a puff of smoke. Alec follows suit, and they slip through the window while the couple inside is still panting through their afterglow.

The Antivan elf with Alec’s voice looks nothing like him: black curly hair, brown skin with red undertones, and thicker well-muscled arms from lifting boxes at the docks all day. Zevran’s vocal twin has similar long light hair but also has a carefully trimmed goatee, pale skin, no tattoos, and the heavier build that seems to come with being human. His accent is, ironically enough, Ferelden, so their instructions specified convincing sounds but no words from either.

“When do you think they’ll get back?” the human asks his partner quietly.

“Maker, I hope it’s soon,” he says but snuggles into his arms. “Not sure I can pull that off again, and you’re horrible at faking.” The human holds him like something precious, very different from the shrug he’d given when Alec and Zevran had left them three hours ago. The elf has gone from suspicious to very… comfortable.

Alec clears his throat.

Their vocal doubles start but don’t let go. “Maker! When did you arrive?” asks the human.

“We’ve been here long enough to know your…” Alec pretends to ponder through his delighted, vicious grin, “… performance… has been convincing.”

The human turns bright red and the elf glances abashedly at the wall. Zevran gives Alec a grin but hands the couple some rags. The men quickly disentangle but linger on the bed to clean up. Zevran collects their trail of clothing and piles it on the bed.

“I still say this job is the weirdest I’ve _ever_ taken,” the elf says, grinning. It’s still odd hearing Alec’s voice with an Antivan accent, but who knows what could happen if they stay? “Not that I’m complaining,” he adds as Alec hands him and the human heavy purses.

“Here’s the other half,” Alec says. “As a bonus,” Alec hands them each a key, “I’ve gotten you rooms elsewhere.” He gives directions to the other inn.

“Not here, ser?” the human asks. Alec smirks the way he always does when humans call him ser. _Does he know he does that?_

Alec huffs. “I think you’ll find room 103 comfortable.”

Alec pulls lengths of rope from the top of the wardrobe and sets them on the foot of the bed. “Too many clothes,” Alec says in his Dom voice, so Zevran undresses as their new best friends reverse that process.

“Remember, my friends,” Zevran says with a smile no one believes, “if you let loose a word about this job, we will let loose… certain other things you’d be better off not parting with, no?”

The human scoffs. “As if I would challenge him again. I’ve no hope against”—

“Not a word about that, either,” Alec says, making his own preparations at the foot of the bed without glancing up. “Just when I start relying on my anonymity…” he grumbles.

“Of course, ser,” the human says, saluting. _They must have met during the Blight Year. Maybe Amaranthine? Rare that Alec gets the credit he’s due._

The human and the other elf finish dressing just as Zevran is naked. Alec points at a cushion he’s set at the foot of the bed, but he escorts the other couple out the door. Zevran kneels obediently. Alec closes the door behind the couple and sets Zevran’s boots next to him.

“Put these on first,” Alec says and _oh, braska,_ the Dom voice.

“Yes, Commander.” Zevran sits on the cushion to pulls his boots on. The leather hugs his lower calves and supports his ankles.

Zevran nods at the door. “Do you think their Valentine’s celebrations are at an end?”

Alec chuckles. “Maybe not.” He runs the rope through his hands, checking it, making Zevran’s mouth go dry. He kneels again, appreciating the way the boots make him feel even more naked.

“I don’t need the cushion,” Zevran says. “My knees can handle a little contact with the floor, can they not?”

Alec hums, setting the rope aside. “I know they can. Either I’m being sweet for Valentine’s, or I plan to be especially cruel.”

A moan escapes Zevran’s throat. “Cruel, I hope, caro.”

Alec tucks Zevran’s daggers under the cushion, handles showing between Zevran’s feet.

“You can forget these for now, but remember them later,” he says. Zevran nods, heart pounding. They haven’t pulled this off yet. He settles back on his heels, letting the leather boots dig into his ass.

Zevran watches Alec as he heads for the bed, until Alec says, “Eyes forward.” Then he’s looking at the door, listening to Alec changing out of his ‘card shark’ outfit and into something leather. Zevran can hear the squeak.

Sure enough, when Alec crouches in front of him, he’s wearing his boots, the close-fitting leather pants fashionable since the Tale of the Champion became such a craze, and a leather vest that fits him well when it’s not open like that. Alec’s pale freckled chest taunts Zevran, and he reaches out, hoping for a taste. Alec catches his wrist. Zevran thinks he’ll go for ‘mad’, but then he smirks, stands with Zevran’s wrist still caught, and runs Zevran’s hand over his own chest. The freckles on his smooth skin are slightly raised, and his nipples are pebbled already. He feels the moment he relaxes, lets Alec use his hand to feel himself up.

Alec leans over and kisses him, passionate and teasing, as a reward. Zevran tugs against his wrist, not hard enough to break Alec’s grip, and pleasure shoots from his tongue to his balls and back up to the wrist tight in Alec’s grip.

“Hands behind your back,” Alec says. He tucks the trapped wrist at the small of Zevran’s back, and when Zevran grabs his other wrist, panting from the kiss, Alec rewards him with a tingle of electricity through his body. His cock pulses harder as his body remembers their sex during the last eight years. Eight years already? No, nine?

Alec runs his hands over Zevran’s body, waking it up with that mildly painful electrical touch. He hums his approval as he steps back to take in the picture Zevran makes, standing high as he can on his knees. His skin sings, longing for Alec’s touch already.

Alec asks, “Can you hold still for me?”

“You doubt my abilities?” Zevran rejoins.

“You doubt mine?” Alec starts with relaxing-hot fingertips, tracing Zevran’s cheekbone, the edge of his ear, sifting through Zevran’s hair without pulling.

“Never,” Zevran admits.

Alec dips low to trail fingers over Zevran’s belly, thighs, with an occasional graze on his cock, causing Zevran to gasp in pleasure. Alec increases the heat to just barely painful. Zevran’s attention narrows to each burning touch, every graze of fingertips over skin. His breath comes faster until Zevran is struggling to control it.

Five burning fingertips rest on Zevran’s heaving chest. Just as he worries Alec might allow his fingers to burn skin, they cool to warm, then chilly, then ice-cold.

Alec’s palm rests against his skin. Zevran groans, “You could give me more, caro.”

“More what?” he asks.

“Just touch me,” Zevran says.

Alec grabs his cock with his cold hand, and Zev yelps, jumping back.

“Braska! You know I hate that!” Zevran palms himself to warm up again.

Alec’s laughing. “Do you think you can recover?”

Zevran huffs. “Assuming you don’t pull that again, no? I should have guessed you would do such a thing,” he chides to keep himself from laughing.

“Yes, you should have.” Alec sets his mouth thin, but his eyes still have a dangerous glint to them. “No promises,” he says, pointing at the cushion, and _fuck_ , that’s practically a promise of cruelty tonight.

Zevran should protest, but he _wants_ that like dry land wants rain. Alec grabs him by the back of the hair and kisses him breathless. Fuck it. He wants it, Alec knows he does, and anything else he wants later he can ask for then. He falls to his knees on the cushion and catches his wrist behind his back again.

Alec looks thoughtful. “You should be more polite, innit?” Oh, is _this_ how they will play tonight?

“When am I ever rude?” Zevran protests. “I make suggestions. Requests at most.”

“We have this word in Common for making requests _politely_.”

Zevran rolls his eyes. “You’ve _heard_ me say ‘please,’ _especially_ in bed, no?”

“Could stand hearing it a little more tonight, but that isn’t the real problem.” Alec leans over and says in Zevran’s ear: “You moved.”

“Braska,” Zevran swears. “That was hardly fair, caro.”

“You’re right,” Alec says, and that’s Zevran’s first clue he’s in deep trouble. “I startled you with the sudden cold. Not exactly your favorite.” He rubs Zevran’s shoulder and neck.

Zevran nods cautiously.

“You need practice.” Alec strokes his arm with an ice-cold touch.

“Practice?” Zevran asks as Alec’s shivery-cold hands shape him: knees wider, sitting back on his heels now, leaning back so that his chest and cock are on full display. Is he getting worked up over nothing? Maybe Alec is going easy on him for Valentine’s. They practice temperature play all the time. He’s a little relieved, but he’s more disappointed.

“Oh yeah,” Alec says, and Zevran doesn’t catch the dangerous edge to his voice, because Alec says, “Don’t cum until I say, but be as loud as you want,” and Zevran’s brain stops working.

Alec’s hand wraps around Zevran’s cock in a loose grip, and he strokes it with deliberate intensity and magical slick warmth. Zevran moans with the stroke, the warmth, and the strain of holding the position leaning back like this. Zevran luxuriates in the pleasure and Alec’s avid appreciation of his struggle to hold still. This is practice after all.

Alec’s grip tightens and his hand speeds up. What was heady arousal gathers up and hurtles toward orgasm. Zevran tries to head it off, but hardly any such tricks work without moving, and in less than a minute he’s shouting, “May I cum!” to let Alec deny him as he’s promised.

“No,” Alec says, but he doesn’t let go of Zevran. Instead, his hand turns almost freezing again. Zevran jerks as his orgasm flees the painful cold. He nearly pushes Alec away before he controls himself and returns to his original position. He’d jumped off the cushion and let go of his wrist. The denied orgasm leaves an uneven buzz under his skin as he drops back onto his knees, panting.

“You moved again,” Alec says with the satisfied smirk, propping a knee in front Zevran in a stable stance.

“Oh,” Zevran pants. He should have _known_ Alec would pull out all the stops today. Still, Valentine’s Day in Antiva is an excellent excuse to be sweet. “Sorry? Commander.” He bends over Alec’s knee contritely but wiggles his ass as a tease.

Alec chuckles. “No, you’re not.”

Alec swats his ass right where it meets his thigh in a regular rhythm that has Zevran crying out. Actual pain quickly becomes the type that makes him woozy, a high buzzing under his skin as he relaxes and moans.

“You _clearly_ need more help.” Alec is holding that rope again, the dark blue with silver in it.

Zevran imagines being unable to stop Alec’s game. “I was afraid you’d never offer.” Alec can take him further than his body will let him go.

“You remember your safeword?”

“Yes, caro.”

Alec examines his face. For all he loves it, the game of denial is difficult when Alec uses cold to banish his orgasms. Zevran can’t help the dread he feels, but he lets the hope and need show, too. Alec nods.

He ties Zevran’s legs kneeling, each thigh to its upper calf. His fingers are deft from years of practice. Zevran’s head spins with the _zip_ of rope-on-rope, the pressure of Alec’s rope against his buzzing skin, the way it holds him for what comes next. Alec is careful that the ends don’t hit Zevran as he threads them through their knots, but the bite as Alec tightens the ropes keeps Zevran’s attention. Zevran has enough slack that he can sit back on the heels of his boots or lift halfway up. Alec checks the the range of motion the bonds give Zevran, placing the tails between Zevran’s feet.

“Do I get all this motion to myself, caro?”

“You’ll need it,” Alec promises. “Arms straight back there,” Alec says, holding a simple dragonfly armbinder made from the third rope.

Zevran obeys, turning his palms to face each other. He’s rewarded with the gentle slide of rope up his arms behind him, followed by a rope embrace that keeps his arms back, pressing his chest out. Zevran smiles about the beautiful display he makes. Alec checks the fit as he ladders more loops down his arms, asking questions that Zevran isn’t too hazy to answer yet. The stretch pressing his shoulders back is a new pleasure building, unrelated to the orgasm Alec made him give up. Zevran relaxes into the snug restraints, which aren’t tight enough to hurt. Alec finishes by gathering the rope tails from the armbinder and the legs and tying Zevran’s wrists together in cuffs. When he circles in front of Zevran, Zevran flexes to make his muscles ripple beautifully and inspire that greedy glint in Alec’s eye.

Then Alec tugs on his hair, pulling his head back and putting Zevran’s body into fuck-or-die mode. Zevran whimpers a plea without meaning to as Alec tugs again.

“Damn, my rope looks good on you,” Alec breathes.

“Braska, Commander, I’m in trouble tonight, no?” Zevran asks huskily.

Alec smiles that knowing, evil, glorious smile. “So much trouble,” he agrees. Zevran pulses harder again. Alec is still dressed, and Zevran is only wearing boots and rope.

Alec touches his lip, and Zevran strains toward that touch. “You do like being used,” he says. Zevran catches Alec’s finger briefly between his lips. Alec continues walking around Zevran, then caresses his ass, trailing sparking fingertips over sensitive skin. Zev’s surprised to hardly respond. He hums mildly to express his willingness but lack of real enthusiasm. Alec completes his circuit of Zevran and tangles his fingers in his hair again. His tug is barely painful, and Zevran lets himself release a little more self-control.

“You are _so_ good-looking,” Alec says.

Zevran tries to preen, but all he can manage with Alec’s fingers in his hair is straining against his bonds with a desperate pant. “You do plan to take advantage, no?” he goads to make up for the helpless squirming.

“I have you,” Alec croons, sending electricity tingling across his scalp, “at my mercy. I can use you however I like.” There’s motion, and sure enough, Alec is unlacing his leather leggings. He takes out his cock, and Zevran moans. He won’t forget this whenever Alec wears these: his gorgeous cock framed in leather, the smell of elfroot and leather, the slack in his own muscles in response to Alec’s tug on his hair.

“How about a blow?” Alec asks.

“Can you match our elven friend in volume?” Zevran teases.

“We did all that practice for a good cause, innit?”

Smiling, Zevran opens his mouth, laying his tongue over his lower teeth. Alec wants this, and Zevran lets it be what he wants, too. Alec touches the tip of his cock on Zevran’s cheek, allowing Zevran to turn to it. Zev catches Alec’s cock in his lips, but Alec pulls away. Zevran extends his tongue to keep contact, and Alec keeps Zevran steady by his hair as Zevran laves attention over his cock. Moans of appreciation fall from Alec’s lips. Zevran revels in his smooth, hard cock, the joy in being so compatible in these games.

“I’ll edge you as many times as I can before they arrive.”

Zevran catches his breath and looks up at Alec’s sex-darkened apple-green eyes. “Fuck yes.”

“You’ll regret agreeing to that,” Alec says, but Zevran knew that much when he agreed.

“Hardly as much as I will enjoy it.”

Alec guides Zevran’s eager mouth over his cock, smooth and hard against his tongue. Zevran moves his tongue in waves to feel Alec’s grip tighten. Pleasure flows from Alec to Zevran and back.

“Of course, there’s a chance they’re stupider than we thought.” Alec’s voice is barely rough as he fucks into Zevran’s mouth, controlling the angle and occasionally brushing the back of his throat. “Fuck. What if they don’t show up?” he teases. Zevran woozily struggles to figure out how many hours until dawn. It’s the short nights of summer, but still… hours. He moans, the sound cut off when Alec’s cock touches the back of this throat again. “Ah, well,” Alec says, “if they don’t come tonight, I guess you won’t either.”

Zevran strains against the ropes to feel their hold, but there’s so much to feel right now: desire and gratitude, the pleasure of having Alec in his mouth, the heady danger still stalking them, the hope and fear of being held in pleasure without completion for _hours_. Zevran starts shaking. After a moment, Alec tugs again on his hair with a static-light prickle, and that grounds him back to Alec thrusting into his mouth, back into this moment and his own body, straining with the pleasure of meeting Alec’s demands. He finds the ability to swallow at the right times rather than passively accept Alec’s cock.

Alec groans and guides Zevran’s mouth to take him deeper until Zevran has to swallow with every stroke or gag as his nose brushes ginger curls.

“Fuck, how can you be so”—Alec cuts off with a moan. Zevran swallows warm cum as Alec’s moans fill his thoughts with sating himself with Alec’s pleasure.

Alec pulls him off and stumbles a satisfied step. Zevran allows himself to sit drunkenly on his heels, grinning with Alec’s fingers still tangled in his hair.

“Are you quite all right, caro?” He savors his body’s memory of swallowing Alec down. “Need to sit a moment?”

Alec growls, “Give me a moment, cheeky,” grinning and tugging on Zevran’s hair. Zevran chuckles, his head and skin buzzing.

After another moment, Alec scrapes his short nails and magical heat over Zevran’s shoulder, down to flick and pinch his nipple, then over his stomach. “Is this what you wanted?”

Zevran hums. He moans lower when Alec trails his warm fingers in the sensitive fold at the top of his thigh, but Alec moves down and presses and scrapes the edges of the rope lower on Zev’s thighs, focusing Zevran’s awareness. He lifts off his heels to feel that snug hold tighten again, to feel those limits, and to hear Alec’s hum of approval. Zevran lets it all sink into his skin, into the feeling of _alive_ that sang through him all night as they played their games at the card room. He spent months there but can never return again. He regrets none of it and knows from his smile that Alec feels the same.

Alec’s hand lowers to his cock again, and this time Zevran’s entire body pulls against his restraints. “Thank you, caro,” Zevran manages after a few loose strokes, each one making him jerk against the ropes.

Alec’s spell makes his hand slick and warm and wonderful again. Zevran groans, shaking continuously now.

“Your touch is like rain in summer,” he admits. “I’m the grapes on the vine, soaking in your caress.”

“Gonna watch winter hit you hard,” Alec says, cradling his cheek and stroking harder.

“You’re so cruel to me, caro,” Zevran says and kisses him.

Alec ends the kiss on a chuckle. “You’re welcome.”

It builds thickly, pleasure on pleasure, as Zevran says, “Delicious,” between moans. Finally, Zevran whispers, “May I cum, bello?” knowing what the answer will be.

“No,” Alec says. Zevran savors that flash of relief/disappointment before Alec makes his hand shockingly cold.

Zevran jerks again, but this time the ropes hold him up on the cushion. “Aaah!” he yells as his orgasm vanishes in the unrelenting cold. “Too cold, caro! Aaaanh!” The cold edges into pain as good as pleasure, and then seems to recede, leaving the anticipation for the next edge. Zevran takes a shaky breath as moisture springs to his eyes.

“Shh,” Alec says, wiping his tears away. “You can cum when they get here.”

Alec grasps him again too soon, and Zevran sucks in a breath, releasing it on a loud moan. He only strokes a few minutes before Zevran blurts, “Can I cum, caro!” and Alec takes away his hand with another chuckle. Without the cold, Alec’s touch comes too soon again, and Zevran’s lax body leaps to the edge again to be denied, then Alec does it again, and again. Zevran’s frustration has him shaking, but he avoids begging. Then Alec edges him faster, and Zevran has no idea what he’s saying. When Alec finally uses the cold again, the pain sends Zevran deeper into ecstasy.

“This is almost too easy,” Alec says. He moves behind Zevran to support him in his arms and rubs Zevran’s skin, warm and soothing. “How many times is this?”

“Hungh,” Zevran tries and fails at numbers. “Like the waves on the sea, caro.” Alec chuckles like pure sex.

As Alec caresses his skin, the frustration ebbs away with this orgasm. Zevran accepts this: he will cum when Alec allows it. It might be the next time or never, but Zevran can’t control it. It feels so _right_. His purpose is to wait on Alec’s pleasure. He looks to the side at Alec’s smirk. It has far more wonder and… something else… than Zevran ever allowed himself to expect from a bed partner.

Their gazes are still locked when Alec takes Zevran in hand again. Zevran slumps in the ropes, _so hard_ , but his arousal soon hits a plateau. Alec strokes him, using his other hand and his magic to give him a sharp jolt of alternating electricity, cold, or heat. Zevran should be begging to cum.

Has his body accepted that he won’t? Zevran realizes he might hardly be _able_ to cum when Alec needs it. He glances down, squirming in the restraints.

“Take your time,” Alec says, leaning over his shoulder. Zevran looks at his smile and lets go. He just… floats on an endless sea, tilting, rising and falling in small, gentle waves, but never climbing a crest. Rather than an orgasm, it’s sustained bliss.

“How’s this?”

“Delicious,” Zevran mutters. “Am I dreaming? I didn’t know pleasure could float me.”

“You look like you’re flying,” Alec says. It’s giving Alec pleasure to watch him. The crest is high and Zevran is climbing to it fast.

“Please,” he begs, climbing this new wave and needing to release this ocean inside him. “Please let me. Polite, yes? I can do it again when they arrive. Please let me now.”

Alec huffs a bit. “You can _not_ ,” he says.

Zevran pries his eyes open to capture Alec’s eye. “Of _course_ I can, caro,” he pants. “May I please?”

Alec smiles—Zevran _almost_ thinks he’ll get to cum—but says, “No.” Zevran’s too surprised to expect the shock of cold that snaps his eyes shut and makes his body convulse against the ropes.

“Ah! Ow! Braska! Fuck! No, caro, you are too wicked.” It’s too late. The orgasm’s gone.

“You love it,” Alec taunts. Zevran slumps against Alec.

“Fuck, yes! but this is _killing_ me, caro.” Zevran finds himself burrowing into his warm embrace.

“I know,” he says. He’s most likely smiling.

“Please, caro, I need this. They’ll hardly be here soon.” His touch is so warm. His body feels like the best parts of the Fade itself. “I don’t think… I don’t think I can do it again.”

“Shhh,” Alec says. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Zevran moans in protest. “No, please let me cum.”

“Do you need to use your safeword?” Alec asks.

“No!” Zevran blurts. This is… amazing. There’s no way he’d forgive himself for letting this end now.

Alec kisses his neck. “Then don’t worry about whether you cum. That’s my job.”

Zevran moans a protest as Alec grips his sensitive cock, every gentle stroke an unbearable pleasure. He yells without restraint, climbs toward orgasm yet again, as impossible as it seems. His lax muscles shake again, and still Alec holds him tight against his front, using his free hand to play heat and cold and sparks across Zevran’s body. Zevran feels hollowed out but filled with pleasure, like the rock that holds the ocean.

“Ahn,” Zevran manages, “close.”

Alec’s hand slows. “Zev, I need you to hold back a little longer. Can you do that for me?”

Zevran feels the steady pleasure waver. “Yes.” Alec’s hand resumes its pace. There’s noise somewhere, but Zevran is concentrating on avoiding orgasm yet.

“Are you ready?” Alec whispers very close to Zevran’s ear. His _voice_ is made of pure sex, distilled from the exact center of the universe.

“Caro, may I cum _please?_ ” Zevran begs very loudly.

“Come,” Alec says, loudly enough for those outside to hear.

Zevran cums as three Crow guards from the card room pile through the door. The protesting innkeeper follows, but they stumble, transfixed by the sight and sound of Zevran finally getting his release: wave after wave of intense pleasure. Alec continues to stroke him at just the right pace and pressure.

“… been here all night. Oh!” the innkeeper says, ending on a gasp as he sees Zevran put on display for them. The innkeeper turns away but facing the guards. He adds, “I _told_ you they’ve been _busy_.”

“You _need_ to see this.” Alec kindly holds Zevran’s head up by his hair to show him their reactions. He watches through half-lidded eyes he struggles to keep open through wave after excruciating wave of pleasure. The guards have every reaction Zevran could wish for. One can’t tear her eyes away but watches wide-eyed, horrified or entranced, fascinated by the spurting of Zevran’s cock. Another is disgusted. He leaves the room. A target, should it come to insults or blades. Zevran’s favorite reaction is from the guard whose eyebrows knit together. After a moment, they smile in frank appreciation of Zevran’s helplessly quivering body. The innkeeper blocks the guards’ view, oblivious to Zevran and Alec’s exhibitionistic enjoyment. The third guard leans to see around the innkeeper.

“These _fine_ gentlemen _can’t_ be the thieves you’re looking for,” the innkeeper insists once Zevran quiets. “They’ve been _here_ tonight. Ask anyone in the place.” The guard who’s leaning over to see better glances at the innkeeper, eyebrows shooting up.

“Guards of some sort, are you?” Alec asks in his bored Dom-tone, still stroking Zevran. _Oh, fuck, he’s still deep into his Dom persona._ “We’ve been at it all night,” he lies, “for _Valentine’s_ , so you can’t be here on business. You must be here to join?” Zevran’s body convulses one last time at the suggestion. “Like that, do you?” Alec mutters in Zev’s ear as he lets Zevran’s head hang loose.

“Be my fucking Valentine, caro,” Zev replies, well aware they could be his last words.

Alec chuckles low. Only two things are holding Zevran up right now: the ropes and Alec’s hand on his slumped shoulder. Nonetheless, Zevran is finally clear, relaxed. He’s hyper-aware of everything in the room and hall beyond. The guards shift creakily from foot to foot: awkward discomfort rather than readying weapons.

Alec’s thumb traces circles where Zevran’s shoulder meets his neck. Even more reassuring is the palmed blade against his shoulder: if these guards don’t believe their cover, Alec will cast a barrier and cut Zevran free. Zevran remembers his daggers tucked under the cushion. It would hardly be the first time Zevran had fought in only his boots, and orgasm is better than brandy for sharpening his skills. He feels loose. Give him ten more seconds, and he can be as quick as he needs to.

“Well. I suppose you want to know the rules,” Alec says, untying the ropes properly. Zev grins at the floor in spite of himself. “If you want _him_ to serve you, you can serve _me_ first.” Too cheeky by half, but it could work: it _is_ Valentine’s in Antiva. Zevran nearly laughs at the idea this could devolve into an orgy with the card room’s entire bankroll hidden in their safehouse a block away. Zevran prays they take Alec’s Dom persona in stride.

“No, _thank_ you for your offer, but we have _criminals_ to catch, don’t we?” says the man who’d left before. Thank _fuck_ everyone in this town is kinky.

“Um, _yes,_ thank you, that’s true. Both thieves and assassins. Very, ah, dangerous,” says the woman, convincing herself. “We should go. Find them. Now. Definitely.”

“Really?” asks the third guard. Oh, Zev likes _them_. “If _these_ aren’t our thieves, then they’ve escaped. Would it hurt to--?”

Zevran glances up at the wordless commotion that follows as Alec releases him from the last of the ropes. The man is already stomping downstairs. The woman, still staring behind herself, is dragging her gently protesting fellow guard out the door.

The innkeeper turns to say, “A thousand pardons, sers.” He blushes harder and snicks the door shut.

Alec and Zevran manage to wait for three heartbeats before they burst out laughing, Zevran pouring boneless into Alec’s arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Isabela will love everything about this story.
> 
> I looked up which other characters John Curry voiced besides Zevran. It’s hard to believe Ser Landry would survive challenging Alec or play along with these shenanigans, but it amused me to make him Zevran’s vocal double anyway.
> 
> A huge thank-you to Rosehip for the beta! Their familiarity with Alec Surana was invaluable. I made a lot of changes in the meantime, so all mistakes, etc., are mine. Also, thank you to my husband for checking that the heist still made sense after all my editing.


End file.
